


You're A Slytherin, Harry

by mark_that_lucifer



Series: You're A Slytherin, Harry [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, HP Alternity, Hogwarts Era, Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Marauders Friendship, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin James Potter, YASH, YASH fic, You're A Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 14,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mark_that_lucifer/pseuds/mark_that_lucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wizards and witches in the wizarding world does not know any mortal perils, all because Lord Voldemort doesn't exist. It is a world where Harry Potter is living happily with James and Lily Potter, and he is about to start his first year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There, the mischievous, cunning Harry will try to create his own path in the school along with his best friends Draco Malfoy, Hufflepuff's Ron Weasley, Ravenclaw's Hermione Granger, and the love of his life, Ginny Weasley from Gryffindor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast with Potters

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is an alternate universe (AU) from the books/movies of Harry Potter series. Therefore, you may find some of the writings are almost identical to the books (especially) since the writer is aiming to make this AU more realistic to what has happened in the books/movies. No plagiarism is intended.  
> However, any wrong depictions of the story or the character(s) may or may not be intended. Since this is an AU version of the books/movies Harry Potter, new characters by different names will be included to create the alternate feelings towards the storyline, as well as new backstory(s) for any of the major character(s) in this series.

“So? Big day today Harry boy?”

The boy with a pair of bright-green eyes and messy jet black hair looks up to look at the voice from across the table. Despite being asked the question very early in the morning, the boy continues to chew on his breakfast nonchalantly, which causes James to chuckle.

“Nervous?” James tries to fish an answer out of his son for the second time, and yet again to no avail. The scrawny boy raises his eyebrow questioningly before he gets back to his plate of breakfast before him. James bursts out laughing, a lady with red hair comes striding with a tray of freshly squeezed orange juice in her hands.

“What’s happening here dear?” she asks.

“Someone is definitely being all twitchy by the fact that today _is_ his big day,” says James while smiling brightly at the lady.

“Is he now?” The lady has now joined in with the chuckle club, and the boy rolls his eyes at the scene, scoffing. “I am not nervous if you two must know,” says the boy while concentrating on the French toast on his plate.

“HE SPEAKS! Thank Lord for that!” exclaims James, sending Lily to laugh out loud at the very reaction from her beloved husband, and that is how the Potters start their day everyday. Harry Potter is the proud son of James and Lily Potter, and today their morning is extra hectic since Harry will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the very school his parents attended back when they were of same age as he is now.

James is visibly excited of the fact his son will technically be his junior while Lily is just happy to see her son old enough to attend Hogwarts this year.

Lily walks over to Harry and ruffles up what seems to be his bedhead hair. “Don’t worry love. You will fit in right away since you’re your father’s son,” she says as she lowers her head to kiss Harry on the head.

“I’m not nervous Mum. Dad is just being his usual self – the oh-I-am-hilarious self. I bet he ate half a clown before breakfast.” Harry smirks at his father, which James gladly reply him with another smirk, and Lily chuckles at the very sight of her boys.

“I’m glad to hear that love. What time will we be get going dear? Let’s not do the last-minute challenge just this once, shall we?” Lily raises her eyebrow at James before she walks back into the kitchen, James’ eyes trail his wife till she vanishes behind the door before he looks at the grandfather clock in the far corner of the dining room.

“Perhaps the next hour. How’s that sound love?” he asks loudly, and he hears a loud “Sounds good!” from the next room.

“Dad?”

James shifts his eyes onto his son. “Yes? What is it son?”

“Where do you think I belonged in?”

“Why? Are you already bored to be part of the infamous Potter family?” James chuckles teasingly and Harry snorts at his father’s lame joke. “Never mind then old man.” Harry continues eating his breakfast quietly in his seat.

James lets out a soft chuckle. “Why? Which house are you afraid of Harry?”

Harry continues chewing the food in his mouth, but James knows his son too well; Harry heard his question and he is thinking on how to reply to that.

“I don’t particularly afraid of any houses,” says Harry, almost whispering to himself. “But, you know… at least I want to be in Slytherin just like you.”

“And becomes the next cunning and ambitious Potter? Living up the family glory?” James laughs, Harry simply shrugs. “You turned out great. So, I don’t see why I can’t be in the same house as you were?”

James softly stares at his only son and smiles. “Whichever house you’ll be in, I know you will do great.”

Harry stares back at his father and his smile spreads wider. That is what Harry wanted to hear from his parents. He doesn’t like the idea of being a let-down to his father when his father is a great man in his life and he was a Slytherin.

Harry is determined to be in Slytherin house by hook or by crook.  **Slytherin _is_ the Potter’s way of life**.


	2. Meeting the Malfoys

The clock tower above Saint Pancras station shows 9.30 a.m., and the Potter family is seen to alight the taxi just outside King’s Cross Station. James and Harry hurriedly make their ways to the back of the car to take out Harry’s trunk from the boot, while Lily is fishing for her purse in her handbag. After the taxi driver is paid for his service, the trio proceed into King’s Cross Station while chatting and laughing merrily with each other towards Platform 9 and 10.

“We should build a jacuzzi in Harry’s room now, since he won’t be around much to use the room,” says James to Lily with all the intention of taunting Harry, who swiftly gives a stink eye at his father, while pushing the trolley pack with trunk, a bird cage with a perching snowy owl, and other Harry’s stuff that are unknown even to Harry since he mindlessly tossed everything of his into those bags and boxes.

“Honestly old man. It is not as if I am moving into Hogwarts for good!” Harry gives a loud scoff and causes a roar of laughter from James. Lily shakes her head as she chuckles from the side, still feeling amused at the casual banter between her husband and son every now and then.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone old man. Do cherish your only son within this last hour before it is too late,” says Harry before sticking his tongue out at James, and James does the same as his reply.

“Alright boys. Enough teasing and focus on this.” Lily successfully grabs their attention as now they are standing in between Platform 9 and 10 in King’s Cross Station. There aren’t many people milling around those platforms, except for a family with noticeable pale faces sporting white blond hairs that Harry believes can be seen from across the station without the help from the sun.

“Lucius!” greets James happily as the Potters move closer towards the family; however, all James got from the man is a very formal, unenthusiastic reply of, “Mr. Potter.” **Wow. What a stuck up man?** Harry inner thought states, and the message is conveyed directly onto his face as now Harry is frowning at the man called Lucius who is now staring at Harry back with a terrible cold stare.

“Joining the Hogwarts this year as well I see?” asks Lucius with a deadpan expression.

“Your son too? What was his name again? Drake? Drape? Drunko?” Harry snorts at the remark made by his father, which he quickly covers it up by clearing his throat violently. The edge of Lucius’s lips twitches; the boy who is apparently the son glowers while moving backwards to hide himself behind his father’s figure.

James laughs as he pats the back of Lucius’s shoulder. “Oh come on Lucius. Lighten up! I was horsing around here. No offense Draco.” The boy called Draco hesitantly nods his head and gives James a timid smile. “And congratulation on becoming one of Hogwarts students,” he adds more.

“Thanks,” replies Draco quietly.

“Mr. Potter,” Lucius quickly cuts in and continues to walk through the brickwall in between Platform 9 and 10, which a second later he vanishes behind the wall, both Harry and Draco watch the event in awe. The pale lady who has been standing soundlessly in the back approaches Draco and stands closely next to him.

“Come on now son,” she speaks, and now both of them disappear almost instantly into the brickwall. Harry still finds this very amusing indeed, and his dropped jaw is the obvious proof.

Suddenly Harry feels a soft pat on his shoulder, he glances up to see his father looking back at him with a smile. Harry now have the control of his trolley in turn, his father swoops down to level with him, and softly mutters in his ear, “Just ram through it. Much more fun that way.” James gives a sly grin accompanied with a wink.

Harry sneers.

“You sure you are not trying to get your son killed in vain here, are you Dad?”

Harry backs away from the brickwall to gather enough momentum to ram into that very wall. He takes a deep breath and with the count of two, he starts running into the wall, and the next thing he sees is a stream of white smoke emitting out of a black locomotive’s chimney.

He is now standing on Platform 9¾, and before him stands the famous Hogwarts Express train, the sole transportation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	3. Harry's First Recruitment

Harry still couldn’t take his eyes off the majestic black and red train that he has always heard fro his parents has never seen it by his very own eyes before. A wide smile spreads across his face, and later he feels a warm touch on his right shoulder. When he looks up, he realizes both his parents are already by his sides.

“Sorry for the late introduction, but this is Hogwarts Express, Harry. Stunning isn’t she?” James smiles warmly at his son and gives him another pat on the shoulder to signal Harry to keep on moving. Just like someone who has been hypnotized, Harry obediently pushes the trolley forward, through the sea of people who are bustling about throughout the platform with their own trolleys and families. It was obviously a sight to see, not to mention the commotion that is happening around them; the steam from the locomotive whistles loudly; owls hooting to each other as if in deep conversations, cats meowing and purring and hissing to passerby as well as to their own; and the chatters of possibly every single person on the platform as well as those in the train.

“Let’s find you a seat then,” calls Lily, bringing Harry back from his trance. Both Lily and James stretch their necks above the crowds, trying to observe any empty compartments for Harry to sit throughout the journey to Hogwarts.

As they made their way through the crowds, they passed a plump woman who keeps on straightening her son’s tie while rambling about his untidy uniform, which the boy is hardly grateful by the look on his face; young, chirpy first years who are hanging their head out of the windows to chat with their families; a group of older female students hugging and giggling together as they are reunited; and a couple of much older boys heaving their heavy trunks onto the carriages.

James is walking ahead of his family when he spotted a familiar sight.

“Isn’t this something?” He chuckles and quickly calls out, “Lily! Harry! Found one over here!”

Both Harry and Lily hurriedly scurry towards James, and James helps Harry carry his trunk into the corner of the empty compartment. After making sure every belonging of Harry is now safely tucked away in his compartment, James takes a last look around the compartment with a grin; Harry gives an awkward stare at his beaming father.

“If you must know Harry, this is the very compartment that I used to sit with your Uncle Padfoot, Uncle Moony, and Uncle Wormtail since our first day in Hogwarts. I guess our legacy is now passed down to you and your future friends,” James pats Harry’s back as he tells his tale. “Now, remember, Harry, to choose your friends wisely.”

“I believe your friends aren’t that wise either Dad, except for Uncle Moony. But even he is mental when the Moon is out.” Harry chortles, joined by James shortly after.

“I know. That’s why _remember to choose your friends wisely_.” James gives a sly wink at Harry. Harry smirks in agreement.

Harry and James are now out of the compartment and back on the platform rejoining Lily. Lily gives Harry a very firm yet gentle hug before she plants a wet kiss on his cheek, which Harry quickly wipes using his robe sleeve. James on the other hand gives Harry a very strong hug that almost crushed his ribs if he didn’t tap out in time.

“Mum. Dad. I’ll be back home before Christmas. Don’t worry,” says Harry as he climbs onto the carriage. He turns around to wave farewell before he retires back into his compartment by the time the train starts to chug along the railway track, only to find a blond boy with pale, pointed face sitting in the compartment, looking out the window.

The boy only turns around when he heard the compartment door slides open and Harry casually takes a seat opposite to the boy, grinning.

“Hi. Draco right? I’m Harry, Harry Potter.” Harry puts his hand out for a handshake, but the only respond he gets is a dirty look from the boy. **Oh? What is this?** Harry tries to control his sly grin from showing more visibly on his face. 

**This is interesting…**


	4. Draco is On Board

“I know who you are. Everyone among us Pure Bloods know who you are,” replies Draco, his eyes are now back at the scenery outside the window.

“Who am I then?” asks Harry, genuinely curious over the event that is now taking place in his compartment.

“You’re a Potter.”

“Thank you for the information. I was always wondering who I truly am.”

Draco gives a quick glare at Harry before he looks away, again. “My father told me not to make friend with you lot.”

“ _You lot_? Ouch.” Harry nods with a somber face; however, in the inside, he is laughing and finds the boy amusing. “Does your old man always speak like that?”

Draco startles at the word “old man” and continues to glare at Harry. “My _father_ is a great man. I would be a fool not to listen to him.”

Harry stares directly at Draco, in hope his new found friend would look at him back, but Harry knows when he sees a lost cause. He sits right up and shifts all his weight forward, so he could have a look at Draco closer. “I don’t want to be rude-“

“You’re being rude,” Draco sharply cuts in while looking at the sky outside the window.

“-and that is rude,” says Harry calmly. “Continue on. Anyway, what I wanted to ask was how can your father be a great man when he advises you to dislike someone before you even get to know that person? And when I say that person I really mean me.” He cocks his eyebrows at Draco who is now staring at him back.

Draco pauses for a good minute before he opens his mouth to say, “My father says that your father is a _bad news_ to our community.”

“By community… you mean the Pure Bloods?”

“What else could it mean? Unless you are not actually Pure Blood?” Draco rolls his eyes, “Which I don’t find it alarming.”

“I thought you are against rudeness?” Harry laughs lightly before he continues, “Then, tell me. What has my father did to the community to earn him the title as ‘ _bad news_ ’?” In an instant, Harry believes that Draco has become annoyed by his presence as it is now written clearly across that pale, pointed face. Draco keeps on scowling at Harry, making Harry feels like he has earned the “bad news” title to himself by now.

“Was that too much to ask?” Harry politely asks with a timid smile.

“Don’t you know about your own  _old man_?”

“What? Of course I do. He is my best mate if not a sly one. But just like you about my family, he doesn’t speak much of the community, or as far as I’m concerned, he never refer _our community_ as Pure Blood-only memberships.”

Draco prefers to enjoy the scenery out the window more than to entertain Harry’s curiosity as it seems now; however, that doesn’t break Harry’s spirit since he knows Draco is only misunderstood him and his family instead of actually disliking him. Harry tries to break the ice once again, “Is that it?”

Draco glances at Harry. “What is _it_?”

“Is that it? Is that why my father is deemed as ‘ _bad news_ ’ by Pure Bloods? All because he doesn’t see his Pure Blood status as something to be proud of, unlike others? Have I cracked the case yet?” Harry grins triumphantly, which causes Draco to looks away in annoyance. Harry lets out a soft chuckle when his eyes caught a glimpse sight of a long red hair right outside his compartment, bouncing out of the frame in mere seconds.

“Perhaps?” he hears Draco’s reply after a long pause, bringing Harry back to the reality within the compartment.

Harry smiles, giving a light kick at Draco’s black shoe, Draco swiftly stares angrily at Harry, who continues to smile at the white blond boy. “What?!” exclaims Draco in anger; Harry’s grin becomes wider instead of fading away.

“You know? The issue at hand, about Pure Bloods disliking my family, is between my father and your father and the rest of the Pure Bloods,” Harry explains, “This is the very first time I’ve met you, so wouldn’t it be too harsh to treat me the same way? We both _do_ have nothing in this matter.”

It seems Draco is buying his explanation since the muscles on his pale face start to relax, and eventually, even his gaze becomes much calmer than the past hour. “I guess it would be foolish of me to hate a fellow Pure Blood.” Draco holds out his hand, and with a slight smile he says, “Draco. Draco Malfoy.” Harry couldn’t be much happier but to take that hand and shakes it keenly.

“I’m Harry. Harry Potter. Let’s be friends then.”


	5. You're Eleven, Draco.

The scenery outside the window of Harry’s compartment is now showing vast green fields full of sheep and cows; they’ve been out of London for quite some times, but both Harry and Draco hardly notice it as they are chatting animatedly about their lives and interesting stuff they could boast about: the Malfoy Manor (which Harry has set to go there at least once), their favourite Quidditch teams and players, and their expectations of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, until a dimpled woman slides open the door and smiles.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” she asks politely.

 **Now I feel hungry** , Harry says in his head, quickly leaping off his seat into the corridor. “You want anything here, mate?” asks Harry at Draco who is paying no attention at the trolley filled with variety of chocolates and sweets that could drive any eleven year olds to pure sugar rush.

Draco ignores Harry’s question and continues to focus on the moving sceneries that keep on changing almost every minute as Hogwarts Express is speeding up on its track.

Harry grabs a handful of Chocolate Frogs and Liquorice Wands in one hand, and Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans and Cauldron Cakes on another. After he pays up the lovely lady with a handsome eleven silver Sickles and six bronze Knuts, Harry walks back into the compartment and drops everything next to Draco, Draco stares at him with a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?”

“Sharing! We call it as ‘ _sharing_ ’,” Harry clarifies before he gives his pale blond friend his signature smirk, and seizes a couple of Chocolate Frogs for himself.

Draco glances at the chunk of chocolates and sweets sitting next to him for a split second, then turns to look at Harry, happily opening a box of Chocolate Frog and calmly snatches the leaping chocolate frog in mid-air.

“I’m alright. I don’t eat sweets,” says Draco, darting his eyes back onto the green fields on the other side of the window.

“You don’t? Then, how about this?” Harry swiftly tosses a box of Chocolate Frog from his lap to Draco, which Draco dodges clumsily.

“Stop tossing stuff at me!” he barks, causing a small laughter to escape from Harry’s mouth.

“I’m sorry then. You should’ve told me it was your time of the month,” teases Harry, popping the chocolate frog into his mouth as a whole.

“Shut up!” Draco’s hand grasps hold of a Cauldron Cake and instantly throws it directly towards Harry’s head, Harry ducks the flying cake with ease, and the cake continues to hit the seat instead.

“You missed! I thought you _were_ good at playing Quidditch?”

Draco is about to make his retort but thinks he is better off it since Harry’s snicker is growing louder and louder by the second, making him defeated and decides to join in as well. The compartment is now howled with laughter, causing their neighbours in other compartments to put their heads round the doors, trying to figure out what is happening in the next compartment.

The laughter slowly dies down, both Harry and Draco grins foolishly at one another before Harry tosses another box of the Chocolate Frog, which this time Draco manages to catch it before it hits his face.

“You’re eleven, Draco. Stop acting like 21.” Harry shifts his attention to one of the Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans boxes nearby Draco and casually grabs it, opens the box up, and starts looking for his favourite flavours. “Or… was it another of your father’s brilliant _advises_?” Harry glances up and their eyes meet; Draco looks as if he was just being insulted by a Muggle.

“Can you stop accusing my father? He did nothing wrong,” Draco demands. Harry shrugs his shoulders and resumes to eat the beans without any remorse.

“I’m just saying. Your father seems to have a complete control of you, even down to your eleven-year-old food choices,” replies Harry, his hand diligently popping a couple of beans into his mouth again and again.

“And so? What’s that got to do with you?”

“Simple – you shouldn’t let him control you that much. Heck, I would even fight with my Dad if he ate my food without my permission, and I tell you, we’ve wrestled loads of time since.” Harry smirks triumphantly.

Draco continues on watching Harry before he pops the Chocolate Frog box on his lap open. “Make sure my father never hear about this.”


	6. The Furry Giant

Harry peers out the window; the woods, green hills, and weaving rivers he saw not an hour ago have now been replaced by dark thick forests and mountains, while the blue colour of the sky has turned into deep purple. And beneath his feet, Harry can feel the train starting to slow down. He and Draco put on their long robes, and shortly after, a voice echoes in their compartment: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

The train finally lurches in its track. Harry takes a last look at the window. There is a signboard saying “Hogsmeade Station” not too far from his seating, and he spots a few students have already alighted the train and now they are standing, in close knit groups, on the platform, waiting for the next instruction. Harry follows Draco closely from behind on to the dark, tiny platform, and in an instant, the cold night air bites Harry terribly, causing him to have a shivering fit.

“Bloody Hell it is cold out here,” whines Harry as he hugs himself in his robe more tightly. Draco on the other hand is doing perfectly fine, to Harry’s annoyance.

“Is that why you’re pale? Because you love cold weather?” asks Harry with a snort before he starts to chuckle. Draco says nothing back, adding up Harry’s irritation towards him.

Then, a voice booms throughout the small train station, inciting panics in some of the first-year students, including Harry and Draco. All of them start to look around frantically to find the source of the loud voice but they are practically blind at the time due to the lack of lighting on the platform.

“Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!” the voice booms once again. Slowly Harry sees a colossal dark figure approaching the first-years, making the girls even more terrified than seconds ago. And more slowly, the lamp he is carrying shines onto his face; the vast man (Harry is still doubting if he is actually a man) dons a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, underneath his glinting beetle-black eyes.

“C’mon. Follow me- any more firs’-years?” his deafening voice calls out for the first-years, who timidly walk nearer to the giant. Harry however stands very still in his spot, admiring the gigantic man before him.

“You’re massive!” Harry exclaims with an exasperated chuckle. He is watching the vast man in front of him with gleaming eyes, whilst on his side, Draco winces and glowers at the giant.

“Filth!” Draco cries; the back of Harry’s hand comes flying swiftly and lightly hits Draco square in the chest, causing Draco to startle. Draco turns to scowl at Harry.

“Rude,” tells Harry casually before he deviates his eyes back onto the colossal man, “Hi! My name is Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Ay. Another Potter, righ’ yeh?” the giant replies.

“You knew my father?”

“Not personally, but yer dad was very popular when he was still a student ‘ere,” he continues to explain. “Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

Harry smirks. “I am about to put his popularity to shame, especially in the _look department_.”

The giant booms with laughter. “Yeh definitely yer dad’s son, Harry. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts,” he says as he holds out his enormous hand; Harry gleefully shakes his hand (or more likely his whole arm) before Hagrid herds the first-years down a steep, narrow path.

“Why were you being all friendly with that _creature_?” asks Draco as they leisurely follow Hagrid from the back of the group. His face could not be any more menacing than what Harry is seeing now.

Harry gives Draco’s chest yet another light slap. “Why are you being all judgmental? He is alright to me. It is not like you can see a man in that enormous size anywhere in Diagon Alley.” Harry nods and continues, “Besides, we’re only kids. We are allowed to be fascinated by giants and deadly dragons. Let the adults do the _judging works_ , shall we?”

Harry gives a warm smile at Draco, and not soon after, his smile dies once he realizes where Hagrid has brought them to; they are now standing at the edge of a great black lake with fleet of little boats rocking calmly by the shore.

“ _Blimey_ , Hagrid!” Harry curses under his breath.


	7. Meet Ron Weasley

Harry finds himself standing on the edge of a black lake, overlooking a well-lit majestic castles perched on top of a high mountain, with numerous turrets and towers cropped up on its every side and its windows mirroring the starry night sky above.

It is a cold September, and Harry suspects the first-year students of Hogwarts would have to cross the lake to reach to the castle on the other side of the lake.

“No more’n four to boat!” Hagrid’s voice booms, stifling the chatty noises made by the excited first-years. Harry quickly walks up to Hagrid; Malfoy quietly but begrudgingly follows him suit.

“Mr. Hagrid? Is this the only way to get to the school?” asks Harry with an uncomfortable smile. If they are to talk about _bad timing_ , Harry believes this could be the worst timing to embark the deep, cold lake in a boat fit only for four small first-years.

“Call me Hagrid,” says Hagrid, beaming at Harry while busy directing the confused but elated first-years who keep on hesitating on whether they should climb the already-filled boats or not. “Aren’ yeh excited? Dumbledore reckons this is the best way ter let the firs’-years explore the school ground on their very firs’ day in Hogwarts,” he elaborates.

“ _Brilliant_!” Harry exclaims with sarcasm and proceeds to the nearest empty boat. Then, Harry spots a familiar sight: the same long red hair he saw right outside his compartment in Hogwarts Express, and now _she_ is getting further away as the boat she is in is now rowing thru the smooth, glassy black lake. **Oh! I missed her again!** Harry blames himself as he boards the empty boat with Draco already seated next to him.

“Can I join you? Everywhere else is full,” a freckled boy with blazing red hair suddenly greets both Harry and Draco.

“Sure. Climb on in,” replies Harry politely. Draco, however, shows a disgusted expression across his face. “Red hair, freckles, and a hand-me down robe? You must be a Weasley,” Draco hisses at the boy, who turns immediately red at the very accusation.

Harry slaps Draco’s chest with the back of his hand. “Rude!” says Harry loudly as their boat begins to glide above the calm surface of the water. He then faces the boy, a bright smile plastered on his face. “Hi. I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Ron Weasley,” the boy introduces himself briefly, most probably still feeling embarrassed at the remark made by Draco, who snorts and turns to Harry. “See? I told you he is a Weasley,” he says smugly.

“And…? What’s that got to do with you being rude?”

“Don’t you know? The Weasleys are blood-traitors, especially the beloved father of theirs who is a Muggle-lover.”

“Draco, mate, my father is a Muggle-lover as well, and I mean _literally_ a Muggle-lover.” Harry lets out a chuckle. Draco doesn’t find this at least amusing. He crosses his arms and glowers at both Harry and Ron, mostly directed towards poor Ron Weasley.

“Your family also has bad reputation, didn’t I’ve told you that?” says Draco, follows by a soft scoff. Harry laughs upon seeing the tantrum of the spoilt Malfoy.

“Sure, mate. _Sure_. I am a _blood-traitor_ if you asked me,” retorts Harry jokingly and shifts his focus onto the red-haired boy before him. “So, Ron, are you alone as well? Or do you have siblings already studying in Hogwarts?” he asks.

Ron’s expression becomes dispirited. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie have already left; there’s Percy who is now a Prefect; Fred and George, who are supposedly the infamous twins in Hogwarts as told by them; and my twin sister who is also a first-year this year.”

“How riveting?” says Draco coldly, causing another surge of blood to shoot right up into Ron’s freckled face; now he looks as if he was on fire under his fiery red hair.

“Heads down!” bellows Hagrid out of nowhere. Harry, Draco, and Ron simultaneously turns their head around; the first boats ahead of theirs have reached the cliff. They all obediently (and silently) bow their head low as the little boats continue to sail through an ivy curtain and along a dark tunnel underneath the very castle, until they find themselves at an underground harbour at the foot of the mountain.

Everyone carefully clamber out of their boats, and soon after, Hagrid leads them through a passageway in the rock which bring them to a smooth, damp grassplot, lighten up by the torches on either side of a great oak front door.

They climb the flight of stone steps and walk up to the double doors. Using his gigantic fist, Hagrid gives the castle door three knocks. And with bated breath, they all wait.


	8. The Professor McGonagall

At once, a loud mechanical noise whirs from behind the vast oak front door, and slowly the double doors swing open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes, standing right in the middle of the opening. She wears a stern look, which Harry instantly reminds himself not to cross this teacher ever.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” says Hagrid.

“Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here,” she calmly replies, “Come this way.”

She strides across the flagged stone floor, further into the Entrance Hall as the first-years timidly follows her from behind; the Entrance Hall is very large hallway that could easily fit the Potters’ Cottage back in Godric’s Hollow. Professor McGonagall brings them climbing up a grand marble staircase that leads to the upper floors until they find themselves facing a doorway that buzzes with hundreds of voices from its other end.

Professor McGonagall swiftly halts at the entrance and turns around to face the nervous first-year students.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, which all of you will join briefly after, but before you get sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be your family and your home within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

“There are four houses: Gryffindor for those who are brave, daring, nerve, and chivalry; Hufflepuff for those who value hard work, dedication, patience, loyalty, and fair play; Ravenclaw for those who possess intelligence, knowledge, and wit; and Slytherin, for those who commend ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.

“While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, the greatest honour you can bestow upon your house while you’re here,” Professor McGonagall recites the short introduction of Hogwarts school smoothly and precisely, as if she has been reciting the same speech every single year of her teaching.

“The Sorting will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. So, I would highly advise for you all to smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait,” she continues. Upon hearing the order, each and every first-year is now hastily and nervously fix their robes and hairs, while Harry is trying his best to flatten his unruly jet black hair, which he swears he caught sight of Professor McGonagall rolling her eyes at him as he does so. **Oh no**. Harry’s little heart whimpers.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” says Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly here. Don’t go wandering around if you don’t want to be sent home on your very first day.” Harry hears loud gulps coming from half of the first-years, including himself, as she leaves them alone in the hallway.

“What do you reckon the sorting will be? How exactly do _they_ sort us into those houses?” Harry immediately asks Ron, who is now looking as pale as Draco despite his blazing red hair.

“Fred said it is some sort of a test. Heard it hurts a lot, but I think he was bluffing.” Ron’s words betray his own body language, since he keeps on shifting in his stand, appearing to be a complete nervous wreck.

Harry howls with laughter, sending shock in those who are standing nearby him. “A test? So I see… I forgot to ask my old man about it, but I guess a test sounds like a ball,” he says with a sly smile on his face.

“You’re having a blast here, aren’t you Harry?” asks Draco, breaking his own silence. Harry turns to him and grins happily.

“You heard her. If I wanted to be a Slytherin, I should be _ambitious_ , _cunning_ , and _resourceful_. I am already half way there.” He smirks proudly.

“Why would you want to be a Slytherin? My Dad says Slytherin is the house of most Dark Wizards that have ever to roam on this Earth,” Ron joins in the conversation, much to the loathe of Draco Malfoy who shoots a dirty look at the Weasley the second he speaks.

“Why not? My Dad was a Slytherin, and he is great man. Everyone loves him, including those who hated Slytherins,” Harry proudly explains about his biggest influence and a great role model in his life.

“ ** _Who are you to look down upon Slytherin_**?!” Draco barks loudly at Ron; and before Harry could cut in, Professor McGonagall is now back in the hallway, crying “Quiet!” at Draco, who instantaneously falls into a complete silence.

“Now, form a line,” she says, “and follow me.”


	9. The Sorting Hat

Professor McGonagall walks them through the hall until they arrive before a pair of double doors. And right there, standing not too far from Harry, is that same long red hair he saw twice earlier today. Harry stands there, pausing, eyes fixed on the fiery long red mane.

Harry himself is confused on why he is adamant on chasing this particular sight; if he is to be honest, there are a few other girls in the first-year group that Harry finds strikingly beautiful, and there are more striking hair colours than the long red hair. **Take Draco’s for an example, or Ron’s**. He tells to himself. And yet, somehow, he finds himself attracted to the long blazing red tress, who he is yet to see her face; somehow, he feels calm when he sees it despite it being all fiery red, and just somehow, it feels like home.

Harry was about to make his move towards his mysterious girl when his intention is cut short by Professor McGonagall effortlessly opening the great big double doors, and they are almost immediately greeted by loud chattering noise that come flooding out from the Great Hall.

All thoughts of the long red hair girl disappears completely from Harry’s mind as he is now in awe by the splash of welcoming scenery as they begin to stride across the Great Hall; the majestic hall is brightly lit by thousands and thousands of floating candles that float in mid-air across the hall, right above four tremendously long tables laid with glittering goblets and golden plates, where all the students are now seated and merrily gossiping with their neighbours. Despite the bright illumination, Harry notices that the ceiling has been turned into a velvety black ceiling complete with dotted stars. On the other end of the Great Hall, another long table that overlooks the entire hall is reserved for the teachers, who are seem to be occupied in deep, animated conversations with one another.

However, once everyone realizes the first-year party has arrived, the buzz dies down in an instant, and now all eyes are set upon the first-years, causing more soft whimpers from them which are now loud enough to echo, along with their footsteps, throughout the Hall that has become as silent as a grave. Harry mindlessly follows the crowd from the back, with Draco and Ron on his both sides, glancing back with a smile at those who keep staring at them.

The pack halts, and stands before them is a four-legged stool with a battered-looking patched pointed wizard’s hat sits on top of the stool. Harry squints his eyes at the dirty old pointed hat. He tries to come up with possible reasons they are now standing facing that shabby hat. **Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it? Maybe they sort us into houses by judging who dare to put that hat on?** Harry grins at the thought. **If that’s the case, then I-**

Harry stops at once once he sees the raggedy pointed hat starts to twitch. A rip near its brim opens wide – like a mouth – and the hat begins to sing:

“ _Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,  
But don’t judge on what you see,  
I’ll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
There’s nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can’t see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor;  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you’ve a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin _(Harry smirks) __  
You’ll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  
And don’t get in a flap!  
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I’m the Hogwarts Thinking Cap!”

The whole school applauds as the song stops. The Sorting Hat cleverly bows to each of the four tables, and the Hall becomes quiet once again.

“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron utters under his breath, loud enough for Harry to pick up. “I’m going to kill Fred. He kept going on about wrestling a troll.”

Harry chuckles softly and whispers to Ron, “I rather enjoy that idea to be honest.”

Ron groans.


	10. The Loved Boy Wizard

Professor McGonagall takes her place in between the first-years and the four-legged stool. “When I call your name, you will come forward, put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she says before calling out: “Abbot, Hannah!”

A girl with blonde pigtails hesitantly walks out of the line. She slowly lifts up the frayed pointed hat to make way for her to sit, nervously puts on the hat, and waits. A moment’s pause-

“HUFFLEPUFF!” cries the Sorting Hat. Instantaneously, the first-years hear a loud roaring of cheer and applause coming from the table on the right, making Hannah looks much happier now than then as she goes to sit with fellow Hufflepuffs.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Professor McGonagall continues calling out the first-year students name one by one, while the Sorting Hat tells ( **or shouting most of the time** , Harry thinks) which house do they belong one after another.

The process continues on for quite a while until she calls out, “Malfoy, Draco!”

Harry gives a pat on Draco’s shoulder. “Good luck mate! May I see you in Slytherin,” says Harry as Draco struts his way towards the stool.

The hat barely touches his head when it shouts, “SLYTHERIN!” The last table on the left breaks into an applause and cheer, and Draco smugly grins at Harry just as he struts to join his new family.

“Git,” says Harry while letting out a soft chuckle.

Harry awaits a little while longer as a few more names being called before his.

“Potter, Harry!”

The whole Hall falls into dead silence, and the cheers and applauses of Ravenclaw celebrating their latest addition of a first-year shortly before is now replaced by hisses and whispers from all four tables.

“ _Potter_ , did she say?”

“ _The_ Potter?”

Amidst the confusing sensation stirring in the Great Hall, Harry takes a deep breath and steps out of the line, he takes a sit on the stool and calmly puts on the hat. The hat drops over his eyes and all he can see is the black inside of the hat.

He waits patiently.

“Hmm,” Harry hears a voice, almost whispering in his ear, “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either, but cunning nonetheless. There’s talent – and a nice thirst to prove yourself. Interesting… So where shall I put you?”

Harry glances upward within the Hat, as if staring directly at the Sorting Hat. “Perhaps Slytherin?” suggests Harry.

The Hat howls with laughter. “Cunning as I’ve expected. Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You have a fiery fighting spirit, you know, and Gryffindor will help you harness the spirit to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you’re sure – better be… SLYTHERIN!”

It was definitely a sight for Harry to see as for the very first time since the Sorting Ceremony began, the mentioned house jeers and boos at their new housemate; the Slytherins, who Harry believes might have heard about his father, James Potter’s reputation, are not only holding their applause but some of them are now on their feet hollering at him.

However, to much of Harry’s surprise, the other three houses are actually cheering and applauding for him, with positive chants such as, “You go, Potter!” and “Way to go, Potter!” The teachers and staffs on High Table also join in in the cheering carousal.

**What have that old man _did_ to this school to cause such ruckus?**

Harry laughs under his breath. He bows down before the four houses and proceeds to take a seat next to Draco, who is staring at him with a teasing grin.

“I’ve told you your father is a _bad news_ to our community,” mocks Draco, a small chuckle escapes from his lips.

Harry scoffs. “Yes, mate. I heard ya the first 10th times,” he replies, sticking out his tongue at the pale blond boy, who continues to snigger. “But I didn’t know it was _this_ bad – and awkward.” Harry glances down the table; all the Slytherins unitedly give him deadly glares while some continue to hiss.

“Perhaps I get what’s going on here at this table,” he says, “but I don’t understand why the rest of the houses cheered for me. Were they taking pities on me? ‘Cause I don’t really need pity from them for now.” Harry looks over his shoulder and sees a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors waving at him, which he timidly waves back.

Draco follows Harry’s glance and snorts. “Perhaps they _are_ taking pity on you,” he answers, and automatically Harry’s back hand slaps across Draco’s chest. “Rude,” says Harry before he starts to chuckle.

“Weasley, Ginevra!”

Without knowing who it is, Harry turns his head around, only to find a girl with _the_ long red-hair is now taking a seat on the stool. **Ginevra?** Harry continues to gawk at his long red-haired _mysterious girl_. **Ginevra…**


	11. Nitwick, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak

Harry has finally found out the name of the long red-haired girl. “Ginevra…,” he utters softly under his breath; then he takes a sharp pause.

**Hold on a second. What did Professor McGonagall called her? _Weasley_? _The_ Weasley? As in Ron’s twin sister? _She was Ron’s twin sister all along_?!**

Harry’s blood boils at this new revelation, feeling betrayed by his new found friend, and makes an oath to himself that he will feed Ron to a troll one way or another; but even that was cut short as Harry is now trying to listen at the announcement of her house.

The Great Hall falls silent once again. Then …

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The crowd in red and golden scarfs bursts into a feat of cheers and applause as they welcome Ron’s twin sister to their table. Harry joins in the cheer, his hands turns red rapidly due to the pressure he puts as he keeps on clapping, and his eyes keeps on following the long red hair till she sits next to similar blazing-red-coloured hair twins who have the same freckles on their faces as Ron’s.

Harry stops applauding since he is now experiencing a feeling of a little jolt of jealousy, watching the twins merrily chat and laugh with her. **I should’ve been a Gryffindor** , he thinks to himself.

“Weasley, Ronald!” calls Professor McGonagall, and Harry’s attention swiftly shifts towards the four-legged stool at the centre of the Hall, where Ron nervously makes his way to sit on the stool, donning the ragged Sorting Hat on his head.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” screams the Hat.

The Hufflepuffs roar in cheer as loud as possible, causing Ron’s face to turn into the colour of a bad sunburn. Harry doesn’t miss this opportunity to celebrate Ron’s acceptance into Hufflepuff: he stands on both his feet, applauding as hard as he did for Ron’s twin earlier (if not less) while whistling at the top of his lungs; Harry’s actions invite his fellow Slytherins to glower at him without any mercy.

Draco quickly pulls onto Harry’s robe sleeve. Harry is pulled down and sits back on his seat with an annoyed expression across his face.

“You don’t just go pulling people down. I might have fallen off if I wasn’t that smart!” scolds Harry.

“Just shut up. You’re already unpopular among the Slytherins. Are you making a _death wish_ right now?” Draco hisses, then he looks warily down the table of hostile looking students whose eyes are still glaring at Harry.

Harry follows Draco’s gaze and chuckles. “You can’t blame me if they are not as sociable as I am.” Harry grins teasingly at the onlookers just to irk them more for Harry’s entertainment.

Shortly after, a tall man with half-moon glasses, a long crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and moustache gets up onto his feet from his large, high gold chair; all buzzes in the Great Hall die down in an instant. He gives a warm glance over at the students, just like a father who is proud of his sons and daughters. He spreads his arm wide as if he is hugging each and every student in the room altogether.

“Welcome!” his voice booms throughout the Hall, “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

The whole school claps and cheers after the old tall man sits back down in his majestic chair, and Harry is left wondering if he even should laugh at what he just heard.

“Didn’t know our Headmaster is a loony,” whispers Harry in Draco’s ear.

“Father did warn me about him. He says that Professor Dumbledore isn’t all _that_ great if he is not the Headmaster of Hogwarts,” replies Draco, his eyes are glued to Professor Dumbledore.

“Your father is _sure_ one pleasant bloke, mate.” Harry notices that Draco is shooting daggers at him for the very statement he’s just made, which only makes Harry smirks.

And before he can make another insult, all the dishes on the long table are now piled with mountainous food: roast chicken, roast beef, lamb chops, pork chops, steaks, bacons, sausages, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, and the list goes on and on without an end.

“He may be loony, but he is sure has lots of tricks up his sleeves,” comments Harry as his eyes feast upon those food before him. “He’s a complete _genius_!”


	12. The Bloody Baron

The students and staffs who are gathered tonight in the Great Hall have their hands busied grabbing those glorious food that are laid before them and piling them up in their own plates while their mouths are preoccupied with the feeding and the gossiping with their friends and neighbours at the long tables.

Since his mother doesn’t casually cook 20 different dishes every night, Harry takes this opportunity to fill his plate with a bit of each and every food that is within his reach except the mint humbugs and starts to feast upon them one by one.

“That does look good.”

Harry hears someone (or something) speaks underneath the table, and before Harry could bring his head under the table, a pearly-white transparent figure flies up through the table, causing the first-year students at the Slytherin table to gasp loudly and shriek; and the shriek gets louder once they get a proper look at the ghost. The ghost has a gaunt face with blank staring eyes, wearing robes that are stained with what appears to be silver fluid.

The ghost floats right above the Slytherin table, enviously observing at the students below who are enjoying the roast beef and pork chops and roast potatoes, ignoring the fact that a ghost are watching them from atop.

“What do you want, Bloody Baron?” asks Pierce Pennywhistle, the current Head Boy of Slytherin sitting not far from Harry and Draco.

“Those roast beefs do look delicious this year.”

“You are a bloody ghost, Bloody Baron. Stop trying to act like you’re still _alive_ ,” says the boy next to Pierce, causing a few snickers at the table.

The Bloody Baron does not take the insult gracefully. He takes out his sword and begins to brandish it at the Slytherins’ plates; the first-year girls start screaming, the seniors on the other hand keep on eating despite their heads are being _cut off_ violently by the swinging sword.

After he had his revenge, the Bloody Baron glides and lands at the empty seat besides Draco, who obviously loathes the idea of a ghost in a bloody garment sitting right next to him.

“Can’t you find another seat you filthy spirit!” Draco hisses angrily at the ghost.

The Bloody Baron glances at Draco sideways and scoffs. “Let me guess,” he replies, “You’re a Malfoy aren’t you boy?”

Draco’s lips curl into a smirk. “Yes. I am from the Malfoy Family.”

“Figures. You have your father’s look: the pale blond hair and the smug face. I wonder if you inherit his good-for-nothing personality as well.”

Harry chokes on his trifle (the Slytherin table has now been replaced with assortment of desserts, including variety flavours of puddings and ice-creams, treacle tarts, apple pies, trifle, and strawberries) upon hearing Bloody Baron’s remark about Draco’s old man. After a few coughs, Harry throws his head back to burst out laughing.

“Good one there Bloody Baron!” Harry pays a compliment to the ghost. The ghost, however, stares at Harry with an eerie look.

“And let me guess. You are… James Potter’s son,” asks Bloody Baron.

Harry nods with a grin plastered across his face. The Bloody Baron is still staring at Harry curiously.

“Your father has a terrible reputation here in Slytherin house.”

“So I’ve heard.” Harry is still smiling at the pearly ghost.

The Bloody Baron pauses, then he smirks wickedly. “I bet you’re here now to beat your old man’s reputation?”

“I believe that is _the_ only thing I can do here at Slytherin,” Harry answers with a smirk as well.

“Very well,” says Bloody Baron before he floats away into the wall at the end of the Hall.

 

“Are you on a mission or something?” Harry shifts his eyes from the wall to Draco who is now glowering at him. Harry frowns. “What? What _did_ I do now?” he asks, looking unamused at his pale scrawny friend.

“Is it your mission to make friend with almost everyone you’ve met? Perhaps you would love to make fast friend with the troll?” Draco sneers, which Harry responds with another smirk, but only shrewder than before.

“Don’t tell me you already know the troll, Draco?” Harry lets out a feign gasp. “You _do_ have a very wide connection with the Pure Bloods. I am envious.” He continues to taunt Draco by feigning a jaw drop, and succeed in doing so since now Draco is frowning deeply at him back while his hand flies across Harry’s chest.

“ _Rude_ ,” he says, causing Harry to laugh at the reply.


	13. When Harry Meets Ginny

As Harry starts to feel a little drowsy in the head, all thanks to his now happy, filled-to-the-brim tummy, the treacle tarts and puddings disappear from the plates, leaving the tables empty but with sparkling clean plates and eating utensils. At the same time, Professor Dumbledore gets up onto his feet again, seemingly he has a speech to deliver. The Hall falls silent.

“Ahem – just a few more words in regard of start-of-term notices to give you.

“First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, along with the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side. They are out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death, and a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore gives a soft glance at the Gryffindor table as he speaks.

“What’s in the forest?” asks Harry to his third-year senior sitting next to him.

“The forest was told to be full of dangerous beasts.”

“Dangerous? Are there dragons in the forest?” Harry’s eyes light up at the mere idea of having a dragon as your neighbour.

“Who knows? Nobody has ever been there except those two.” The third-year puckers his lips in the direction of the red-haired twins sitting next to Harry’s _Red Lady_. **So, Professor Dumbledore was referring to those two?** Harry thinks to himself.

“I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. And finally, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“And now, before we all head to our four-poster beds, let us sing the school song!” he cries chirpily, and all the smiles on everyone’s face in the Great Hall have faded (except for the first-year students who know nothing better yet). Oblivious to the rapid drop of the mood in the Hall, Dumbledore continues, “Everyone pick their favourite tune and off we go!”

Dumbledore raises his wand and flicks it lightly, and a long golden ribbon flies out of the tip of his wand and roses high up above the tables and begins to wriggle itself into words.

“ _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our head could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they’re bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we’ve forgot,  
Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.”

Each and every student and staff finishes the song at the different times and notes, until all they can hear is a very slow funeral march which is sung by the red-haired twins. Harry chuckles at their choice of tune, and couldn’t help himself but be awed by the frivolity displayed by the fiery-red-haired twins. **I guess I better meet them sooner rather than later.**

Once everybody has finished singing the school anthem, Dumbledore is the first to clap, and he claps the loudest of them all. “Music. A magic beyond all we do here. And now, off you boys and girls to bed!” he exclaims happily before he retreats back to his seat at the High Table.

The students get up off their seats and together they form lines according to their houses to exit the Hall in an almost proper manner. The Great Hall is once again buzzed with people chattering excitedly with their friends, and all Harry can think of is to see the long red hair girl for one last time before they both head to their own dormitories.

Harry keeps his eyes on the _Red Lady_ as he follows Pierce Pennywhistle besides the Slytherin first-years out of the Hall; and to his luck, Ginevra arrives at the door at the same time he did.

“Hi!” greets Harry, trying his best to contain his excitement in order not to scare his dream girl away.

Ginevra looks over her shoulder and frowns at Harry. “Hi?” she greets back confusedly.

“You’re Ron’s twin sister right?”

“… yes? How did you know Ron?”

“We were compartment-mates earlier in the train.” Harry smiles brightly at the freckled girl, who could only smile back at him confusedly.

“So I see…” her voice trails. “I think I better get back to my group.”

She was about to walk away when Harry snatches her arm impulsively.

“Can I see you again?” he asks. Ginevra gapes at Harry in bewilderment.


	14. Draco, I'm in Love

“ _You what_?”

“I’m asking you if I can see you again.”

“But… why?” Ginevra squints her eyes at Harry, puzzled by the request made by the bespectacled Slytherin boy with messy jet black hair standing before her.

“No particular reason. I just wanted to see you again,” answers Harry with a bright smile.

Harry is yet again finding himself unable to take his eyes off the long red hair girl’s face which its beauty is enhanced by the presence of freckles. His smile won’t fade away even though he is trying his hardest not to look silly in front of his newly-found dream girl.

However, the girl isn’t sharing the same enthusiasm as he is; she stares at Harry sceptically before she frowns.

“Did you had a bet with your fellow Slytherin brothers there?”

“A bet?” Harry chuckles in amusement. He gives a light clear in the throat before he resumes, “If I say I had a bet, will you agree to see me?”

Ginevra raises her eyebrow in a very sceptical manner, yet Harry can see a soft smirk on her lips.

“How much did you bet then?” she asks.

“2 Galleons!” Harry comes up with the number without giving it a thought first. **2 Galleons should be enough right?** Harry asks to himself nervously.

“ _2 Galleons_?” Ginevra ponders for a moment, then the smirk on her face grows broader as she speaks. “That’s too cheap don’t you think? You could have won yourself 5 Galleons if you ask me.”

Harry takes the smirk as her approval of their second meeting.

“So? Is that a yes?” asks Harry eagerly.

The Gryffindor girl smiles. “We shall see,” she answers, walking away to join her fellow Gryffindors as her grin trails, much to the heartache of Harry. Harry can only sigh in frustration.

“Hey Harry! Aren’t you coming?” Draco calls among the crowds, fighting his way against the flow to reach Harry who stands still by the door. “What were you doing here?” he asks.

“Draco, mate, I think I’m in love,” confesses Harry, his eyes obediently follow the long red hair that is moving up the marble staircase till even after it vanishes.

Draco is losing his patience fast. He decides to drag Harry by the robes back into their group; Harry does not show any resistance as he is being manhandled roughly.

“I seriously think I am in love, Draco,” Harry confesses yet again once he is properly marching in line, only to hear a loud snort from his pale friend.

“But she’s a Gryffindor.”

“So? My mother was a Gryffindor. She is still happily married to my Dad till now.”

Draco snorts again. “I think you should break the tradition,” he suggests with a sneer.

“ _Tradition_? What do you mean?” Harry stares at Draco with quizzical look.

“You know… finding a Slytherin girl for yourself? And get hitched after we graduated and have kids perhaps?”

Harry becomes even more puzzled by the suggestion; He finds it silly for Draco to state the latter since it is an obvious option after his Hogwarts life. “I don’t get you mate,” he says truthfully.

“If you’re lucky, you will get a normal kid instead someone like you,” Draco continues before he breaks into a hearty laugh, which is soon joined by Harry himself.

“Git!” replies Harry. Draco smiles, savouring the triumph of making his new friend at a loss for words, but the victory is short-lived since Harry has better wit than he is.

“Yeah. As if we need more people like you.” Harry sticks his tongue out and runs from the reach of Draco in time which causes the Slytherin Head Boy to scream after him: “No running in the hallway Potter!”

However, the chiding turns futile almost instantly since Harry is now standing in a dingy dungeon where his new home is said to be located. The first-years continue to follow Pierce through the dungeon until they reach a door behind a stone wall (Harry assumes it is the entrance since it was too dark and the only thing that illuminates his path is Draco’s white blond hair).

“ _Pure-blood_ ,” says Pierce, and the door immediately opens by itself, revealing a poorly lit pathway. Pierce proceeds into the pathway followed closely by the frightened Slytherin first-years – who are showcasing their worries straight on their faces – and find themselves in Slytherin common room, a slightly brighter dungeon room with hanging greenish lamps, low-backed black and dark green button-tufted, and leather sofas; Harry sees a few skulls on top of dark wood cupboards.

“Right would be the boy’s dormitory while the girl’s is on the left. Good night,” says Pierce before he quietly enters the boy’s dorm, leaving Harry and Draco to stare at each other confusedly.


	15. Meet The Twins

Harry, still wearing his sleepy look, complete with bed hair, slumps into the empty seat next to Draco, who is having his bacon and eggs in the Great Hall. It is now 8AM and students are starting to fill the Hall as they have two hours’ worth of breakfast period before they head to their classes.

Earlier, Harry woke up in his comfortable four-poster bed only to find Draco missing from the neighbouring bed. Since he was alone, Harry took his sweet time to have a bath (by which he had a short nap before) and get into his school uniform (Harry intentionally caught his arms in the sleeves twice) and robes before he heads up to the Great Hall.

“Why did you leave without me?” asks Harry while piling his empty plate with sausages and bacon and eggs.

“Why do I need to wait for you?” Draco retorts without shifting his glance from his food.

Harry scowls at Draco, but decides he is too sleepy to react more than that. Harry gives a soft defeated nod and starts digging into his breakfast silently next to Draco. They continue to mind their own business for a long period of time before Harry breaks the silence between them.

“Do you remember what the first subject is?” he asks.

“Potions.”

“Where will that be?”

“In the dungeons.”

Harry nods, then he frowns. “Do we already know who would be teaching us Potions?”

“Yes we do.”

Harry nods again, and again his face turns wry. “What was his name again? Or hers?”

“Severus Snape.”

“Oh…” Harry gives another nod, and this time he goes back to eating his food. The silence once again falls between them, but both Harry and Draco find the silence as soothing if not friendly, and they resume to feast upon their breakfast until Harry’s eyes caught a familiar sight, the very sight he was looking forward since last night.

“Ginevra!” Harry cries under his breath; and before Draco could turn around, he has already left his seat and is now making his way towards the Gryffindor long table.

“Foolish!” Draco curses softly in turn.

 

Most students have deviated their attentions towards Harry who is now marching to the Gryffindor table. Although Harry’s father, James Potter is known by many for his famous reputation of making friends with other houses, but seeing it first-hand still causes confusion among the students who quickly whisper in each other’s ears about a Slytherin student joining the Gryffindors for breakfast.

“That’s Potter.”  
“But he’s a Slytherin. Slytherin hates Gryffindor.”  
“Not the Potters though. Me Dad kept telling me about his dad being a cool bloke.”  
“His father married to a Gryffindor, did he not?”  
“Wicked!”

Despite the commotion, all Harry could hear are his own thoughts ( **Keep it cool Harry. Try not to look like a fool in front of her. Fix your bloody hair!** ) as he approaches the Gryffindor table.

And finally, he stands before Ginevra and the two fiery red-haired twins from last night. Harry gives a sheepish grin.

“Hi! Can I join you?”

“Why? Because your table is _infested_ by snakes?” asks one of the twins, and the other gives his twin a high five.

“ _Savage_ , George! Just savage.” The twins snicker while Ginevra tries to contain her laugh as they keep on watching Harry.

“What business do you have here, Slytherin?” asks the other twin after the laughter trails. And without getting the permission, Harry has already taken a seat right in front of Ginevra, still smiling foolishly at her.

“Ginevra and I have made a date last night, and here I am!” Harry explains, with his failing self-composure by the seconds.

The twins instantly glance at the long red-haired girl sitting in between them, who was clearly stunned by the accusation.

“I DID NOT!” she retorts, then she looks at both twins nervously. “I swear I did not make a date with this _spud_.”

“A spud? More like a specked git,” adds the twin, chuckling at his own statement, “But you’re okay, mate. What’s your name?”

“Harry. Harry Potter. And you are … ?”

“I’m George. This is Fred. We met at Diagon Alley in our first year and never separate since. And this is our little sister, Ginny.”

“Ginny?” Harry turns to look at the girl. “Your name is Ginny? Not Ginevra?”

“Short for Ginevra,” she explains briefly before she smiles, which causes Harry’s grin to become even more sheepish.

Harry immediately snaps himself back into reality before he loses himself.

“Oh! You guys were absolutely brilliant last night. The funeral anthem? Bloody brilliant. I wished I have thought of that myself but all I could think of was singing in Mermish,” says Harry.

“And how does that sound like?” asks Fred.

Harry quickly makes a drowning sound, causing the twins as well as Ginny to burst into laughter.

“George. I believe we have found ourselves a teammate,” Fred says with a proud smirk on his face. George who has already been smirking as part of the twin effect replies, “I believe we sure did.”


	16. Snakes and A Lioness

Harry is having a blast chatting with the Weasleys, especially the twins. Now he knows everything there is to know about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: the Forbidden Forest, the magical creatures that live in the forest, the thing hidden in the third-floor corridor on the right, the whereabouts of every Hogwarts house and abandoned class in the school, and the kitchen (“ _Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and open sesame_ ,” explains Fred).

They are all about finishing their pumpkin juice when Ginny suddenly gets up off her seat, collecting her belongings as if she is about to leave the table.

“Where are you going?” Harry quickly interrupts her.

“I’m heading to my class,” she answers, smiling at Harry; Harry could not stop thinking of how beautiful this _Red Lady_ is when she beams. “Potions. I believe the class is in the dungeon,” she continues as she unfolds a piece of parchment, studies it for a second, gives a light nod, and slips the paper back into her robes pocket.

“I better be off now. Might get lost while exploring the dungeons.” She smiles slyly at her brothers before she sets off to her class; Harry hurriedly follows after her after bids the twins farewell.

“You said your class is Potions, and it is in the dungeon?” asks Harry once he caught up with her.

“Yes.” Ginny then realizes something. She turns to look at Harry warily. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your class is most probably my class as well. I have Potions in the dungeon first thing today.” Harry smiles proudly, proud at the fact that he will be spending more time with Ginny later afterwards.

“… really?” Ginny pauses for a moment, then she beams at Harry. “Well then. Let’s head there together.”

“Fantastic! Let me get my mate and my stuff first. Wait for me by the door?” And Harry disappears before Ginny as he is now rushing towards the Slytherin table.

“Get your stuff Draco. We’re heading to the class now,” he abruptly explains to Draco who is about to tell his fellow Slytherins about the Malfoy Mansion.

“Why now? We still have 20 minutes at least before the class starts, and it is in the dungeon. We don’t need to go find it. It is practically _there_ already,” Malfoy clarifies himself snappily, which Harry didn’t actually listen since he wasn’t paying attention to Draco but his belongings.

Harry manages to hold his belongings in his arms, including his bag when he looks at Draco who is still leisurely drinks his juice. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up you lazy duff,” Harry exclaims.

Draco grunts and whines _(“Who are you to order me around?”, “Wait till my father hears about this.”_ ) at the order; nevertheless, he grabs all his belongings and stands before Harry with a disgruntled face.

Harry grins brightly and says, “Let’s go!” chirpily as he reunites with Ginny who is waiting alone at the door as promised.

“Ginny. Meet Draco. Draco. Be nice, but this is Ginny, Ron’s twin sister,” Harry introduces the both of them to each other; Ginny smiles at Draco but Draco haughtily looks away, refusing to acknowledge that he is now walking to a class with a Weasley.

Ginny chuckles under her breath. “What is it?” Harry asks, curious about the sudden giggle.

“You have a very _charming_ friend, Potter. Now I am questioning myself if I should make an acquaintance with you,” Ginny elaborates before she continues chuckling. Harry quickly joins in.

“Don’t you worry. Only he has that _chummy_ attitude among my friends.” Harry received an elbow on his side as he made the remark – Draco’s face turns sourer by the seconds.

“Speak for yourself, Potter! You getting all chummy with the giant and now with the traitors,” Draco hisses at Ginny at the mention of “traitor”. Ginny merely chuckles as she looks away from Draco’s gaze.

Harry’s backhand goes flying to Draco’s stomach in an instant as he gives a warning glare at Draco. “I told you to be nice. Just be nice, Draco. What do you have to lose? Your face? It’s still there! The Malfoy family name? I swear I’ll put your name under the Potter family registration once you’ve been kicked out from the Malfoy Mansion.” Harry grins teasingly at Draco, Draco rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“As if that’ll make everything better,” Draco mumbles as he continues whining. They have finally arrived at the Potions classroom, and there is a line of students from both Slytherin and Gryffindor houses waiting right outside the classroom.


	17. My Father's Foe

Harry, Draco, and Ginny immediately get in line with the rest outside of the Potions classroom, and both Slytherins continue to bicker – in which to be more accurate Harry keeps on teasing Draco while Draco scoffs and snorts in return – when a tall man in black robes with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin comes walking by the queue of first-years and vanishes behind the door of the classroom. All students seem to be taken aback or frightened by that almost-black figure.

“Was that him?” asks Harry at Draco, frowning at the door, “Was that our Potions teacher?”

Draco instead frowns at Harry. “Where have you been all these whiles? That is our Head of Slytherin house. And what I’ve heard, he always favours us Slytherins,” says Draco while smirking at Ginny to mock her. However, Ginny is not even slightly shaken by the jeering and continues to smile brightly at Draco, which he replies by shooting daggers at her out of spite.

“ENTER,” booms a voice from inside the classroom, sending chills down to the first-years’ spines, and the cold temperature in the dungeons helps heighten the effect.

The students carefully enter the room, take their seats silently, and sit quietly while waiting for the next order from the teacher. Harry takes his place next to Draco while Ginny joins her Gryffindor group whom deliberately placed themselves at the back of the class, near the exit.

Harry is ogling at the pickled animals floating lifelessly in colourful glass jars on the walls when Snape starts taking register, and once he reaches Harry’s name, he pauses.

“Harry… Potter. Son of James Potter I presume,” he mutters softly.

Harry looks fixedly at him, feeling bewildered at the moment; Harry does not know whether to reply to that statement with or without sarcasm since the tone that Snape used wasn’t a friendly one, it sounded revolting. Harry suspects that his new Potions teacher _hates_ his father, and somehow he hates Harry _too_.

Harry’s wild theory is soon confirmed as Snape continue to jeer, “Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_.” Draco snorts at Harry’s side while Harry glowers at his new teacher, he can see that Snape’s eyes are as empty and cold as dark tunnels.

 **What is his problem?** Harry ponders while his hand cleverly smacks Draco square on his chest. “Rude,” says Harry half whispering without taking his eyes off Snape. Snape gives him a mocking smirk.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” Snape addresses to the class as he begins to stride around the silent classroom. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.” Every student is listening attentively to Snape who is almost whispering as he speaks.

“I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…” His speech trails, successfully the impact on the first-year students who are evidently eager to learn more about potions.

Harry isn’t buying any of the acts, his face hardly softens since the class began. Snape notices this, which in return he decides to take advantage of the growing mutual hatred between him and Harry.

“Potter!” calls Snape sharply – Harry who has already had his eyes glaring at Snape does nothing to respond, and that irks Snape whose face has turned more rotten than before.

“What would I get if I added powdered root of ashphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry stays silence for a few moments before he answers, “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape sneers, clearly enjoying himself of the fact that the son of his foe is nothing but an idiotic fool.

“Let’s try again, Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

All eyes are now onto Harry, who still refuses to lower his glare at his Potions teacher. “I don’t know, _sir_.”

“Thought you wouldn’t need to open your book and read before coming, eh, Potter?” Snape jeers. The rest of his class are already too petrified in their seats that none of them snicker at Harry, not even Draco who shoots nervous glances at his friend.

Snape makes his way towards Harry, ignoring the fact that his student is scowling at him back. Snape’s lips curl with air of smugness.

“Like father, like son. Useless…”

However, this time around, Harry is the one smirking. “I disagree on that, sir.”

Snape scowls sharply at Harry.

“It is only the start of the term, sir. It is not my fault if I have no knowledge of anything about Potions since you, _sir_ , as my Potions teacher, is the one responsible of teaching me everything about Potions. So …”

Harry can see Snape’s lips quiver in anger. The very sight gives Harry that triumphant feeling.

“… if I am still useless after your class, then it means you, as my teacher _are_ useless as well, _sir_.”

Harry swears he heard the whole class gasped silently in unison. **Serves you right.**


	18. Negative Fifteen Points

“I can’t believe you’re _that_ daft, Potter!”

Draco barks as he storms out of the Potions classroom at once after the Potions lesson ended, Harry at his heels as they both make their way to the next class on the third floor.

Harry retorts nothing back at the accusation made by Draco. He believes it is not the right time to give sharp reply to his fuming-mad friend, or at least not _yet_.

Harry knows very well what have made his pale, blond friend to show such angst towards him, although Harry still doesn’t see the need of venting that wrath onto him alone.  He still stands on his ground that he did nothing wrong back there in the classroom with Snape.

 **Snape was practically asking for it** , thinks Harry to himself.

Thanks to Draco’s sudden temper, Harry couldn’t bid Ginny goodbye before they parted ways; and that helps him getting even with his friend by cursing Draco under his breath in return while Draco is too preoccupied in rambling about how foolish Harry was to defy and mock their Potions teacher on their very first day of class.

Harry decides he is a bigger man and lets Draco blurts out every possible execrate he could possibly think of while they climb the steps, heading to History of Magic class. However, he fails to realize that perhaps Draco won’t let him easy, because turns out Draco has the tenacity and drive to keep on cursing at Harry’s foolishness of challenging their Head of Slytherin house when Harry himself is a Slytherin throughout the lesson. Fortunately, Professor Binns, the only ghost to teach in Hogwarts, gives a _lifeless_ lesson about the most dozy subject that can ever be taught anywhere in this world. Thus, Harry finds solace in Draco’s annoyance.

 

“You’re going the wrong way, Draco,” Harry casually informs Draco, breaking his silence as he sees Draco almost stepping onto the wrong moving staircase that leads to the upper level instead of the opposite direction.

Draco looks daggers at Harry before he proceeds to take the next stairs leading down to the Great Hall.

History of Magic lesson has just ended and now every student of Hogwarts is racing towards the Hall to have their meal since it is already noon.

Both Harry and Draco make their way to the Slytherin table – Draco marches while Harry ambles behind him. Draco takes a seat opposite to the Slytherin’s Head Boy, throwing his bag mindlessly next to him, which just so happens to be occupied by a Slytherin boy who is having his lunch with his group of friends.

After apologizing to the boy on Draco’s behalf, Harry sits himself next to Draco, nonchalantly fills his empty plate with any foods within his reach.

“I heard someone had a row with Professor Snape?” asks Pierce, looking at both Draco and Harry, and that prompts Draco to further scowl at Harry.

“Better ask this _celebrity_ yourself,” Draco replies, angrily stabbing at the innocent food to put onto his own plate.

“Celebrity?” Pierce frowns, glancing at Harry for explanation.

Harry shakes his head.

“Just a joke.” Harry gives a sheepish smile to the Head Boy. “Although … I did had a row with Snape.” He nods as he takes a bite of his roasted chicken.

“You did? Do you know how much that has cost us? 30 points.”

“30? _Only_ 30? I thought he took a lot more than that, seeing how furious he was earlier.” Harry shrugs, he continues to devour his meal in his own peace.

“30 points from 15 points,” Pierce justifies. His tone of voice raises with a hint of heat. “That makes us the last house with negative 15 points. NEGATIVE.” The last emphasized word is aimed to recapture Harry’s attention; and Pierce succeeds in doing so as Harry looks up from his plate.

“Negative? I thought it would only come down to zero instead?”

“Well, now you know.” Pierce’s tone has become normal once again before he continues to eat his lunch.

Harry lets himself into a deep thought. Then, a smug smile plasters across Harry’s face. ”Don’t you worry about that Pierce. I would give Slytherin the most points this year. You just wait and see,” he says.

 

The amount of students and staffs in the Great Hall slowly thinning as each of them started to leave the Hall to get to their next classes, and both Harry and Draco aren’t excluded. After they had a hearty meal, they gather their belongings, swing their bags over their shoulders, and moves along the crowd exiting the Hall.

Draco’s mood has improved significantly after lunch, which Harry strongly believes that Draco is only being friendly again towards him after Harry got an earful from almost every Slytherin senior whom kept coming by their seats earlier just to nag in Harry’s ears.

Harry has lost his breath once they reached the Class 99 in the South Tower, where the Charms lesson will take place. Harry can see a lot of students have already arrived outside the class, and half of them are wearing Ravenclaw emblem on their robes.

“I guess we are sharing class with the Ravenclaws,” says Harry to Draco.


	19. The Muggle-Born Genius

Draco is all smile at Harry, he reminisces about the lunch hour scenario where Harry was sternly criticized by the rest of the Slytherins for being a cocky first-year towards their very own Head of House as well as for losing all those house points won by the seniors on their very first day of class.

Draco is contented.

He is smiling brightly until his eyes catch a glimpse of a _freak of nature_ : a Ravenclaw girl with lots of bushy brown hair and _extremely_ large front teeth, standing right next to the door, clasping her books to her chest, smiling as brightly as Draco was a second ago.

Draco’s mood quickly takes a drastic change in mere seconds – now he feels disgusted and angsty towards the girl who brazenly stands near him while looking that _hideous_.

Harry notices Draco’s sudden change of vibe.

“What’s wrong mate?” asks Harry as he tries to look at what Draco is gazing at so intensely when he sees the Ravenclaw girl. Harry turns to glare at Draco, and out of habit, he gives Draco’s stomach his backhand.

“Stop being rude, Draco. You don’t even know her yet,” he says, glancing back at the innocent girl. “At least give her a chance before you start judging.”

Harry scoffs and continues to enter the classroom without Draco once the door has been opened.

Draco frowns deeply. **Filthy commoner.**

 

The classroom is brilliantly lit since the Sun shines freely through the large window that overlooks the Greenhouses and the lake, and Draco can visibly see a goblin-sized man standing before the class on top of piles and piles of books behind his desk.

“Welcome students, welcome. I am Professor Filius Flitwick, I am not a goblin, I’m half-goblin half-human, and I’ll be teaching you Charms in your first year at Hogwarts,” Professor Flitwick begins once he sees his students have settled down comfortably. He begins his lesson by taking the register; he keeps on smiling at Harry once he learnt that Harry is one of his brightest student’s offspring, while Draco scowls at the Ravenclaw girl when her name is announced.

“The term ‘ _charm’_ itself reflects the extent of wonderful things you can do with good charms. However, never mistaken charms with Transfiguring spells – a charm adds certain properties to an object or creature, while a transfiguring spell will change it into something utterly different.

“No different to any other spells or jinxes, full concentration is vital when performing a charm. Lapses in concentration while charming can result in painful side effects. 

“And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — remember Wizard Baruffio, who said ’s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.” The class laughs along with him.

“So, for our first lesson, let’s learn wand-lighting charm! Bring out your wands if you haven’t yet do so.”

The classroom erupts into a band of noises as the first-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws move about in their seats, taking out wands and books out of their bags before settling back down, and they wait patiently and quietly for the next instruction from the Charms master.

“The incantation is ‘ _lumos’_ , with a little emphasize on the ‘u’. And move your wrist in a loop shape, like this -“ Professor Flitwick illustrates as he swishes his wand in a twirly movement, a bright light illuminates from the tip of his wand.

Draco grabs hold of his wand and tries to imitate Professor Flitwick’s action while muttering “ _Lumos_ ”. Nothing happens.

Draco starts to feel irritated.

He tries once again. “ _Lumos!_ ” he shouts, and still no light coming out of his wand.

Draco is losing his patience.

“Well, you’re not doing it right, obviously. I’ve tried this spell before just for practice and it worked.” Draco hears a girl boasting from the desk behind him. He turns around only to find the _hideous_ girl Hermione _conceitedly_ trying to teach the spell to another Ravenclaw girl.

“Do it like this. _Lumos_!” Her wand immediately lets out a bright white light from the very tip.

“Oh, well done!” cries Professor Flitwick who was watching, applauding to Hermione. “Everyone see here, Miss Granger has done it!”

All eyes on the bushy-haired girl who is now beaming at the acknowledgment.

“Miss Granger. A Muggle-born and yet capable of performing the spell better than any of her peers from wizarding families. May you hatchlings set Miss Granger here as an example.”

Harry turns his head to face Draco, who as Harry expected has turned red possibly due to the boiling blood in his veins. Harry gulps.

“ _No judging?_ ” he says with a timid smile.


End file.
